For some Jews, they find value from Judaism through the classic traditions: holidays, synagogue service, and so on. Others through the community: its relative inclusiveness, the shared history and identities, etc. Or a combination of the two.
For a minority of Jews they find, intentionally or not, value through something else: the embrace of the ‘radial tradition’, or Tikkun olam in its actual form. This is the reckoning of the idea that we are one world, one people(by people, I mean everyone) united around making the world an exceptional place to live in. That is the meaning and practice of Judaism. Not just traditions. Not just the community. But the legacy of radical change. That by chance of history some Jews have been placed in positions to make transformative change for everyone’s betterment.
This is not to take absurd credit or elevate the historical status of the Jewish people, but to recognize there has been group of Jews throughout history who certainly have made a tremendous difference. This is who Jews should aspire to be, as I find it the proudest ongoing legacy of the Jewish people.
The biggest contention with the this strand of practice versus more conventional practice is such: Hyperfocus on us as a people is not Judaism — at least not how we should ideally practice it.
A fundamental aspect of this view is an intense skepticism of the mainstream Jewish organizations that claim to serve the best interest of the Jewish people. Two examples will be described here: Apartheid South Africa and 1930s Britain.
There was an interesting characteristic among the white participants of the anti-apartheid movement in South Africa. They were disproportionally Jewish, but drew from only a small minority of the overall Jewish community. This included heroic figures such as Ruth First, Joe Slovo, Ronnie Kasrils, Helen Suzman, Tony Karon, and many others. Some such as Ruth First, gave their life for the struggle.
The South African Jewish Board of Deputies had a different approach to dealing with the South Government. Despite the outrageous antisemitic and racist views held by the the Apartheid government, the Board, out of fear of endangering the Jewish population (but at the expense of the majority of South Africans), maintained a cordial relationship with the government. Only in 1988 did the Board formally condemn apartheid.
Similarly, in 1930s Britain the Jewish Board of Deputies made a horrendous error in judgment. As the fascist movement grew in the UK, many Jews expressed concerned over the rise of overt antisemitism across the country. Rather than aspire to their mandate to protect the Jewish population, the Board instead refused to speak out. As the Board believed that only reasoned debate could combat antisemitism, it discouraged Jews from joining anti-fascist organizations that were prepared to take down the fascist movement.
Meanwhile, a section of the Jewish community had a different idea on how to fight antisemitism. They formed the Jewish People’s Council Against Fascism and Antisemitism (JPC) with the aim to challenge fascism head on. Yet, they knew that this could not be won alone. The JPC understood that “the struggle against antisemitism is as much as task for the British people as a whole as for the Jews”. Thus, the JPC sought to build a mass movement against fascism with allies from across British society.
These efforts reached its climax in 1936 with the Battle of Cable Street in the East End of London. On October 4th, the British Union of Fascists (BUF) marched onto Cable Street as as show of the party’s growing strength. Despite warnings from Jewish community leaders to not participate in the counter protests, the JPC, in a coalition of socialist, communist, anarchist and trade unionist organizations turned out tens of thousands of demonstrators — Britain’s greatest show of force against fascism until the country’s entry into the Second World War. As a result, the counter protests embarrassed the BUF. Though it would take until 1940 for the government to ban the BUF, the Battle of Cable Street demonstrated that fascism would not take power in Britain without a fight. A fight only possible due to the construction of a mass-antifascist movement.
Of course, there are many other examples of the failure of establishment Jewish organizations to stand up against hatred both against Jewish community and other groups. But the point here is clear: the efforts of mainstream Jewish organizations, despite the good work they do in some areas, will not defeat antisemitism nor any other of the hatreds around the world.
Antisemitism, like other hatreds, can not be fought in a silo. As history shows us, if we want to change the behaviors of society it must come from a mass-movement that includes the interests of other groups and relates our struggles with theirs. For some in the Jewish community, this point already encapsulates some of the work they are doing. For others, this point may bring frustration, thinking that only if they yelled aloud enough then antisemitism would disappear.
However, for what I am proposing, in relation to the exposition of this essay, I may have a different interpretation than what may be thought of from the suggestion above. I do not see the fight against antisemitism to be one of the classic allyship model: Where one org of one group partners with another under a common agenda. That may be part of it. But fundamentally what I am proposing is utilizing one of the Jewish people’s greatest assets: The Diaspora.
The relationship between the Diaspora and antisemitism is a complex one. In different spatial contexts antisemitism appears in various forms and at times it may feel that it appears spontaneously. Not to mention the other sufferings that exist from location to the next, each situation is different in their own respects.
Now, with the exception of a few Jewish communities and one obvious one in particular, Jews generally represent a small proportion of the population in which they live. A large chunk of these populations rarely if ever interacts with Jews. This can leave them susceptible to gross prejudices that alters their perception of Jews. My remedy for this situation is not as simple as generally prescribed. While it may include an organization that supports various educational initiatives and lobbies the government to ensure the safety of the Jewish community, this is only a small part.
The core part is what sets it apart from conventional thinking. I offer that Jews, as individuals not as representatives of the Jewish community (for in reality there are no such thing), should unconditionally join the larger social struggles in the places they reside. Whether it be the struggle against racism, against anti-religious bigotry, against homophobia or for jobs, better working conditions and so on, there exist opportunities everywhere.
In short, Jews should not focus on the narrow fight against antisemitism, but the much larger fight for the future. If we help design the future, we can construct one without antisemitism.
But this is no easy feat. The obstacles alone within the Jewish community will not be delved into here.
Yet, this practice, as described earlier, has been central to the lives of many Jews throughout history — particularly over the past two hundred years. With or without the consent of the Jewish leadership (and many times the latter), Jews have come to realize that for their own fulfillment and quest to tend end hatred, that in order to squash antisemitism it must been done as active participants in popular social movements.
Being bystanders or just passive supporters is not enough. Presenting as “allies” is not enough. The fight against antisemitism is not one that should be (solely) done space versus space (e.g. a Jewish org presenting educational material to another org), but should be done within the space itself. This of course means the fight against antisemitism is no longer just that, but a collection of other interwoven struggles. Thus, not only does this improve the wellbeing of the Jewish community, but betters the lives of everyone throughout the world.
This overall practice of the “radical tradition” can be reflected through the words of South Africa’s Joe Slovo:
“I’m not defensive at all about being a Jew. I’m quite proud of it. And I regard anti-Semitism and anti-Jewish cultural activities on the same basis as racism in this country. I regard myself as from Jewish extraction and coming from a group with a very rich history and culture. And part of that history and culture has impacted on my own choice of a way of life.
Ending antisemitism is not about us against the world, as has been thought in many Jewish circles, but us for the world in which we want to live in. And as soon as we accept that, the sooner we can do away with all the world’s evils.
